Breath of Life
by It's Just Alex-nyan
Summary: After two years fighting off dreams of hope and hallucinations in the imprisonment of Albanian witches, Maka Albarn finds it hard to accept her escape as reality. Soul Eater Evans, who she'd believed to be dead, finds that sometimes being cool isn't always the best choice in the world. (post Kishin-defeat manga, but you don't need to have read it. may change to M later)
1. Chapter 1: I'm the One Who Needed Saving

**AN: **Hello! It's been a while! As in a while, I mean... a very long time. I like to think I've grown as a writer since I last posted here, but it turns out I still hate proofreading, so hopefully the amount of errors in this are minimal. I'll go back and fix them at some point!

I'm still pretty rough about where this is going, and I can't promise frequent updates, but I'll try to be good and finish this! The reason I never post chapter fics is because I hardly ever finish them. Hopefully that changes this time around! I'm hoping posting this will help motivate me to continue it.

Anyways. Happy reading, I suppose!

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Humming.

The halls of the dungeon were filled with the sounds of a rather subdued, lonely tune being hummed by Maka Abarn, whose chains clanged lightly against each other in her cold, dank cell. The only light leaking into the cell was provided by the moon, looking down on her with a mocking grin on its face. Maka couldn't remember the last time she'd smiled, or the last time she'd laughed, like the moon was now doing. She honestly didn't know how, or why, she was alive. Two years; two years alone in her cell spent being tested on and beaten for information she didn't know. Her bony wrists and ankles ached, her veins hardly hydrated enough to keep her blood pumping. She was unbearably sore as she sat against the brick wall, arms bound over her head as her head lolled back tiredly. The smell of mildew and dust floated through her senses, echoing the dead, lifeless tune escaping her throat.

Dead. Just like her weapon. Soul.

_Soul… _

Speaking of souls, what had happened to hers? Her soul had once been alive with mirth and spirit, but now it was tired, droopy pig-tailed, and empty. The light that had once lit her soul flickered out as she watched her partner die, and then again when she had woken up from the shock and found she'd been captured. The descent from utter rage at losing her partner dwindled gradually until she was an empty shell. The witches had been hoping to get information out of her, but she was as oblivious as they were. They wanted information about the academy reform under Death the Kid, but Maka had only heard there was to be a reform; she hadn't been told anything yet. None of the students had. The only people that were to be discussing the topic was Kid himself, Maka's father, the other death scythes, and the remaining DWMA staff. At the time of her capture it wasn't even an act that was remotely put into motion yet. Details were still being put into place; there was a lot to think about, especially for a newly awakened Shinigami. The passing of Lord Death had sent the world into a momentary state of panic, and with the rising of a new death god people weren't entirely sure what to expect. Either way; after the madness Kishin Asura had inflicted there were still lots of kishin eggs to deal with. Maka didn't exactly have time to get information on the reform, even if she'd been let in to what was going on.

They didn't believe she didn't know of course; she'd _wielded that death scythe, Soul Eater, correct?_ She'd sit and stew for a while, their taunts getting the wrong rises out of her, until she'd explode into angry tears, asking them why it even mattered. They'd tried potions, spells, starvation, generic torture material on the meister, and yet all she could do was become more and more empty at their efforts. Her rage had turned into tired sorrow. It became heavily apparent that she wasn't just a hard nut to crack; there wasn't anything on the inside. The witches decided to keep her, in hopes that someone with information about what was going on would come to rescue her. They never did.

Maka was lonely. The only time she was provided with company was when she was fed her scarce meals, and when she'd be unchained to use the toilet sitting in the corner. The thing was horrifying, and even though it'd been forever since she'd taken a shower, she still avoided sitting on it or touching it with her hands, even if she was grimy and bloodstained. She was so dehydrated that her menstrual cycles hardly even existed, if at all, and although it was uncomfortable, unsanitary, and unhealthy it wasn't like the state of her underwear wasn't like the rest of her cell. Her prisoner "uniform" hung loose on her starved frame, though it was more like a set of long-johns that belonged to a person four sizes larger than her. Her Spartoi uniform lie wrecked, in the corner, along with her beloved trench coat and gloves that were ripped to shreds. They were long forgotten, just like she was.

The sound of steps echoed down the dimly lit hallway and Maka's humming came to a stop as she started to giggle manically. The steps stopped, as they always did when she started acting crazy, before they continued slower than they'd been moving previously. Before all this Maka probably could've been able to tell who was coming, only now she was so weak she could hardly even hear them. The sound was muddled, like she was under water, and the only thing that really seemed to register to her was the fact that someone was coming to see her, even if they didn't seem entirely happy about it. Her giggles continued as the wary guard stepped up to the bars of her cell, eyeing her carefully.

"Need any relief, Albarn?" apparently her humming had made him assume she needed some kind of appropriate attention, but she simply shook her head, her giggles slowly ceasing.

"You didn't give me anything to piss out." she mutters in monotone. She seems to unnerve him, even after all this time of him checking up on her, so he simply turns and continues making his way down the dungeon hallway. His footsteps disappear, and Maka is left alone in her cell again. The humming starts back up of it's own accord, echoing the long lost sound of Soul.

_Soul…_

Maka doesn't stop humming, but her mind seems to come to a jolt. Thinking about Soul always did that to her. Honestly she'd gotten accustomed to the idea of staying here, in this cell. How is she supposed to go back to DWMA after such a horribly failed mission? Soul had lost his life, and she'd been captured; it was the worst loss a meister could probably ever imagine, and she was living it. How could she show her face?

Simple. She couldn't.

She didn't have to either, because she was stuck her in the murky heat of her cell with no company and no hope left.

"_Maka_."

Her humming stopped, and the chains clanked loudly as she looked up at the high, tiny window that was the only source of her light. Her view of the moon had been blocked by a figure. She had to be hallucinating again.

"_That is you! Christ, I'm getting you out okay? Gimme a second._" the figure muttered. Black*Star. Why would she hallucinate him of all people to save her? She didn't bother replying out loud;_ I've honestly got all the time in the world._ She thought.

Maka jerks awake to the sound of iron being sliced through, and she looked around groggily for the source before a figure drops through the window, landing deftly on it's feet and looking up at her. Black*Star. _  
_

"YAHOO! YOU'LL NEVER CATCH ME YOU OLD HAGS!" Maka is tugged from sleep yet again, hoping that her awful stream of dreams will end soon. _Christ, is she going through inception right now?_ She lifts her head up as a flash of blue and red speeds by her cell. She doesn't have the energy to do anything but shake her head, so that's all she does, until she starts humming again. The witches race past her, looking confused and frazzled and half beaten to a pulp. It isn't until five minutes later that Black*Star returns to her cell; obviously he'd realized he'd missed her in his frenzy to find her earlier. He looks older than she remembers; broader, stronger,_ sexier_ even though Maka would never admit that, even to herself, out loud. "Maka!" he grips the bars of her cell in one hand, weapon brandished behind him. She can't see who it is, but she assumes it's Tsubaki, considering she was really the only person patient enough to put up with his constant bullshit. "I'm getting you out of here right now! Don't worry! Yeesh, you look like shit…" he mutters, pulling his weapon from behind his back. The weapon isn't Tsubaki…

"Soul Resonance!" the scythe expands, and Maka just stares. She needs to wake up from this dream now._ I can't handle this. Wake up, wake up, wake up_. The scythe cuts clean through the bars, and Black*Star hops between them, hurriedly unbinding her using Soul. Maka's arms collapse to her sides at the unexpected gravity. "No! Don't you come out of weapon form, that's what got her into this shit in the first place, you asswipe." Black*Star sneers as the image of Soul reflects in the blade of the scythe. Maka starts to hyperventilate. "Shit! What do I do?" the ninja meister panics, not sure how to handle the situation at all.

"Doesn't matter. We just need to get her out of here; we're outnumbered." Soul's drawl emits from the scythe. His gaze meets Maka's, and she forget how to breathe completely; passing out.

"Ugh. You see what you did?" Black*Star sighs, grabbing Maka by the waist and hauling her easily over his shoulder. He glances around momentarily, seeing the window high up and stepping back, running up the wall to grip the bars before slicing them using Soul's blade. Soul is silent, his energy crackling in nervous irritation against Black*Star's wavelength. The ninja climbs through the space, running to where they'd left Soul's bike and hopping on, situating the passed-out Maka to make sure she wouldn't fall off before taking off down the coast.


	2. Chapter 2: I Can't Wake Up

**AN: **Hullo~! I'm back with an update. The next chapter may or may not be up as fast as this one. We'll see what happens. Again, as much as I'd like to promise regular updates, I cannot.

Also, if you haven't noticed I highlight Black*Star a lot, and I'm probably going to continue to highlight him a lot, because there's qualities about him I love and he's my favorite character. :D aha I really should come up with a plot for a story about him, shouldn't I?

Anyways. Thanks for the interest, and happy reading!

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When Maka wakes up she's under the down-filled duvet of a hotel bed, and she looks around blearily, unwilling to separate herself from the warmth it was providing her. The first thing she notices is that she's not in her cell, or anything even resembling it at least a tiny bit. It was a comfortable temperature outside the blankets, and she didn't feel like she was being stifled to death. The sound of water running fills her ears; either a shower or rain… _oh, it's both_. She turns her head to glance around the room, but her eyes ended up locking onto Black*Star, who's sitting on the bed opposite looking at her. The TV is on, the volume lowered to a quiet mutter, so it was obvious that he'd been watching it previously; he probably noticed her waking up. Maka weakly pushes herself up onto her elbows, rubbing her eyes and watching Black*Star watch her. He looks relieved but nervous, and Maka starts wondering when Black*Star acquired the ability to feel anything other than pride or revenge.

"Finally awake, then. It only took carrying your sleeping ass all the way to France, didn't it?" he gives her his signature grin, but Maka can tell it's half-hearted. It doesn't reach his eyes, and lacks it's usual zest and haughtiness. Her childhood friend seems rather subdued. Wait… France? Maka glances out the window; somewhere in the fog and rain she can make out the image of the Eiffel Tower. She strains her brain to think of where she had been previously, but when she comes up blank she lets it go for the moment. She's not exactly sure what her brain is doing; she feels like she just woke up from a coma.

"Why are we in France?" her voice is hoarse from the lack of being hydrated, and where as it doesn't surprise her in the slightest Black*Stars seems rather startled by the change from her high-pitched tinkling tone to the gravelly mess her voice is now. He stands up, rounding the small corner of the hotel room, and Maka can hear the clinking of glass and the running of the tap before the blue-haired male makes his way over to her. He sits on the edge of her bed, handing her the glass of cool water in his hands.

"Well, we couldn't stay in Albania, could we? Dumbass witches, if they tried to stay updated instead of hiding like cowards they would know what's going on." Black*Star sounds like he's holding back an angry outburst as she downs the water thirstily, emptying the glass by the time he finishes muttering. She pants a bit, not objecting when he takes the glass and returns to the sink to fill it up again for her.

It takes a moment for it to sink in, but once it does it feels like she's been physically jolted.

_Soul is alive._

Maka had been held hostage by the Albanian witches, and she's free.

More importantly; _Soul is alive._

Maka's emotions threaten to spiral out of control, and when Black*Star hands her the glass again she just clutches it between two hands. He just blinks at her, not entirely sure what she's staring at the wall for. He turns around and stares at it too, tilting his head way this way and that, trying to see what he thinks she's seeing. Of course, he grows frustrated when after more than ten seconds he sees nothing, and he turns to look at her ready to ask her what the hell she's staring at. He stops right as he draws in a breath to ask; she's got tears in her eyes and his mouth closes in shock.

"Oi, don't cry! The great me is here!" the attempt to console her is half-hearted because in all actuality he has no idea what to do about her tears, and he just watches, at a loss, as she sets the glass he'd given her down on the bedside table. She throws her arms around his neck, hugging him to her and shutting her eyes, hiccupping slightly as her friend sits there dumbfounded. He's not entirely sure if he's ever given Maka a hug before, and he supposes that's well enough because neither him or Maka are very physically affectionate people, but he hugs her back anyways. How thin she is startles him, and he tells her he's going to get them something to eat before pulling away, feeling a little mean when she tries to cling to him but he doesn't let her. Honestly, how thin she has become makes his gut lurch, especially when she was so thin already without being starved. Black*Star knocks on the door of the bathroom and informs Soul that he's leaving to get food, before turning to Maka and telling her that he'll be back soon, smiling at her before exiting the room.

Soul emerges from the bathroom not long after, a fluffy towel over his head and jeans riding low on his hips. Maka can't do anything but look at him, not exactly because he's changed but because he's alive, and it hasn't sunk in yet. She's probably dreaming anyway, she'd rather not let it sink in for her to wake up disappointed later. Soul stares at her right back, pausing in pulling his shirt over his head. He walks over to her bedside table without a word and hands her the Bible stashed in the drawer, squatting down so he's in hitting reach, even though he knows she could probably throw a book from all the way across the room and hit him square in the head. Maka just holds it, looking down at it without anything clearly written on her face, before setting it aside. Soul's eyebrows furrow. He wishes he could convey his guilt - how utterly stupid and useless he feels, but the link they resonated with has dwindled over time, and Maka's obviously weakened condition doesn't help. He's not good with words, and Maka knows this, but she's just looking down into her lap at a loss of what to say._ Just clear the silence, Soul Eater._

"Do you want a bath?" he asks in an effort to fill the suffocating silence. She looks up at him, the murky sorrow in her eyes cleared at the thought of getting cleaned up. Maka could definitely use it; covered in dirt and blood and grime. She nods, and Soul jerks his head in the direction of the bathroom. Maka stands unsteadily to her feet, and Soul watches her for an uneasy moment before standing up himself and picking her up from the waist. She clings to him like a little kid, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. Soul carries her into the bathroom, reaching down carefully to start running the water. "Hot as usual?" he questions, as if they'd never been separated for two years or so, but he's happy to find that she nods in agreement. He opens up the bottle of complimentary soap, pouring it into the bath so that she'll have bubbles, before hesitantly prying her arms from his neck. They give little resistance, but he's sure it's just because Maka looks weaker than an old dog, and he sets her hesitantly on her feet. She stays still for moment, not daring to turn and look at her reflection in the mirror. "We bought you some clean clothes, get in the tub while I grab them, okay?" he flees from the room, mostly because it's hard looking at her being such a mess. Maka was always the prepared and pulled together one out of the two of them; in their whole group of friends, actually, and now she's the one that needs help. Soul can hear Maka as she strips her clothes, listening to the hissing of the bubbles as they work to dissolve the dirt on her skin. He grabs the clothes and other various things they'd gotten Maka; tooth brush, tooth paste, soap, shampoo. Tsubaki had suggested buying a razor for her at some point when they were preparing to leave Death City, so that was also sitting in the bag. In the end he just hauls the whole bag into the bathroom, setting it next to the tub so Maka can reach it. The ash-blonde is up to her nose in the bubbles, eyes closed and long hair cascading down her back. Soul isn't fond of the idea of leaving her alone after the whole ordeal, especially when it looks like she's about to fall asleep.

"… Don't fall asleep."

"I wasn't going to." her eyes snap open to look at him, green eyes staring into red. They just stare in silence, the sound of the water swishing against the edge of the tub when Maka shifts under the bubbles. Soul immediately reads her shifting as discomfort, and he turns to step out of the bathroom. "Stay." he turns back to look at Maka, finding that her eyes are filled with conflict. "No don't…" he raises an eyebrow at her. He doesn't understand why she's having such an internal battle about it. "I don't want to wake up yet. Don't leave."

_Oh…_

The smug side of him wants to smile, because she thinks it's a dream which means she'd obviously thought about him a lot. The practical and guilty side argues that she was probably thinking about him a lot because the state he was in at the time of their separation was probably the worst it could've gotten. What kind of weapon is he to leave her alone for so long? He's tempted to exit the bathroom, just to prove to her that he'll come back, but decides to humor her just this once and kneels by the side of the tub, propping his head up on his hand. Maka fidgets, apparently uncomfortable but too stubborn to see him leave.

There's silence, as neither one of them know what to say, and Soul sighs. Maka looks up at him, wondering how she'd irritated him already.

He feels like he used to be able to read her so well, but their bond is severed, and he's left completely in the dark. She's uncharacteristically meek and quiet, and he's tempted to throw an insult her way just to test her.

"Need help washing your hair, tiny tits?" the words escaping his mouth causes his body to flinch in reflex to the Maka Chop that would usually come after that insult, but all Maka does is reach down into the bag he'd left there to tug the shampoo out, handing it to him with a complacent nod. She just took the insult.

This definitely isn't his Maka.

She doesn't do much else but look at him as he stares at her, reaching into the tub to tug out her petite hand, studying it before dropping it back into the water, exchanging it for her foot, which makes her slide under the water and be forcibly dunked . Once Soul lets her go she recovers, looking confused and mildly hurt because she'd just thought he was trying to drown her. He hovers over her head, tugging at her hair and measuring out the length of her grown out bangs; Maka's hair grows fast, so their length was pretty justified.

This had to be his meister. Where did the rest of her go?

Soul sighed, grabbing the shampoo again and squirting it into his hand, placing it onto her head with a wet slap and rubbing it into her scalp. Maka shuts her eyes, sinking farther into the tub with a content hum. The scythe glares down at her half-heartedly, wondering when he'd become so complacent that he'd actually wash her hair for her. Probably when he'd failed her… for what felt like the hundredth time. Maka looked up at him curiously, and he realized he'd just been sitting there with his hands in her hair without actually doing anything, lost in thought. He mutters a distracted apology before continuing, rinsing her hair out before massaging the conditioner into her tresses and tugging the soap out of the bag.

They both look up as the hotel room door opens, hearing Black*Star come back in grumbling about something or another. He pauses in his trek back to Maka's bed to stare at them, blinking owlishly before holding up the huge bag of food he'd brought back.

"I have food." he seemed at a loss of what to say other than that.

"Surprised you didn't eat it all on the way home." Soul stated blankly, tugging the spare wash cloth from the towel rack and dunking it in the water before handing it to Maka, who took it hesitantly.

"I ate at the sandwich shop too so I could resist the urge." Black*Star cackled, trying to add some normalcy back into the conversation, but it didn't really work. He stepped out of their view again, and Soul stood up, stretching before looking down at Maka.

"Come on out and eat when you're finished. I'll make sure he doesn't eat all of it." he gives her a gentle smile, but it disappears when she looks up at him with sad eyes. Maka doesn't want him to leave yet. "I'll be here when you get out. I promise." she continues to look skeptical, but nods anyways, grabbing the soap and pouring it onto the wash cloth in her hands. Soul leaves Maka in the bathroom, shutting the door so she could have some privacy. Black*Star's already digging into the food, so Soul tugs a couple sandwiches out of the bag (how many did Black*Star even order?) before setting two aside for the blonde meister in the bathroom.

"You guys talk?" Black*Star asks without looking away from the TV. It's some soap opera that had been on a marathon since they'd gotten to the hotel, and Black*Star had hardly been able to pull himself away from the TV, eyes locked on the subtitles.

"Not really…" Soul sighs. He would've loved to have had a conversation with Maka, but he wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to say. She didn't even think she was awake, he doesn't know how to hold an intelligent conversation with her without telling her the complete story about what happened, and in her emotional state he didn't think it would be a good idea yet. He had been dead, and it was only by some voodoo magic and good luck that he was alive at the moment, so explaining to Maka he'd been beyond the grave for about two minutes didn't exactly sit well in his gut.

"So you argued. Typical." Black*Star guesses, only taking his eyes off the TV when Soul doesn't reply. The albino looks lost in thought, and it becomes apparent that this whole ordeal isn't just a big important mission; this is a pretty big emotional rollercoaster. Black*Star had noticed the shift in their group when neither Maka nor Soul made it back from their mission those years ago, and by the time that Soul had made it back to DWMA the dynamic in the school had shifted considerably. Students were always warned of the dangers of going out into the field, and even though they knew this it was a completely different ballgame knowing a pair of your classmates had been one of those unlucky enough not to make it back alive, or at least just barely. The younger male sighs, rubbing the hand that isn't holding his sandwich over his face. "I hope you guys get your shit together soon." he mutters, turning his attention back to the TV.

"… Yeah, me too."


	3. Chapter 3: Lay Your Bones Down

**AN: **Hey guys! Oh my god, it's been forever. I'm so sorry about how slow this update came out. At least I warned you about me being infrequent... right? Anyways! Explanation time; my subscription on the program I was using to write this expired, so when I figured out I had to retype everything I got discouraged and sidetracked... _really discouraged and sidetracked _apparently. But, eventually I got the nuts to do it, so here you go! Only about half of this is proofread because I was super excited to get it up after... over a month? God, I'm horrible. Sorry this chapter is shorter than the other two, but it's where I wanted to end it, already, so. I guess I'll wrap this up so you can read. Thanks so much for the lovely feedback and reviews! If you're still reading this, I love you to bits and pieces!

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_"Albarn."_

_Maka looked up from her place in her cell, peaking from behind her grown-out bangs at the guard that was standing outside her cell. She didn't say anything, just looked up at him with a blank expression in her eyes. _

_"You have a phone call." he continued, unlocking her cell and stepping in to unchain her from the wall. He bound her, using some spell in witchcraft after muttering something about ravens Maka couldn't completely make out, before taking her to the phone Maka didn't even realize existed. She'd never even gotten a phone call before, or been able to make one. Since when did they have a phone...? Maka squeezed the phone between her shoulder and her ear when the guard handed it to her, her eyebrows pulling together. _

_"Hello...?" she questioned hesitantly. There was nothing but static. "Is anyone there...?" she asked. _

_"__**I know what you did.**__"_

_The dial tone rang loud in her ear. Maka froze, her breath coming out heavy from her lungs._

_"Maka? Maka...? _Maka wake up."

Maka's eyes snapped open, looking up at the shadow above her face. She blinked, rubbing her eyes and waiting for them to adjust in the dark. Once they're finally gotten used to the dark of the hotel room she was about to make out Black*Star's face, looking down at her with his eyebrows furrowed.

"Hey. You alright?" he asked quietly. Maka swallowed thickly, nodding slightly and turning over onto her back, staring up at the blank ceiling. Black*Star just stood there, not entirely sure what to say or what to do. Tsubaki didn't have nightmares much; he was usually the one being woken up from them, not the other way around. He didn't know how to console his childhood friend at all. He bet Soul knew how to make Maka feel better, but he was fast asleep. "... Wanna sleep with me and Soul?" Maka had half a mind to correct Black*Star on his grammar, but hardly had the energy to. She nodded, reaching up like a child and waiting for Black*Star to carry her over to the bed. _I'm not Soul, I'm not going to treat you like a fucking princess. _He seethed in his head, but found himself picking her up anyways and carrying her over to the double bed he'd been squeezed into with Soul so Maka could have her own bed. Black*Star set her down in the center then climbed in next to her. The space was tight, but Maka didn't seem to mind; she felt like a little kid sleeping in between her parents, and she felt a moment of conflict deciding who to stick closer to. Her heart said Soul, but it'd also hurt the worst to lose him again (not that Black*Star wasn't important... but losing Soul so many times already was starting to wear on her) so she shifted to her blue-haired friend, back to him and hand gripping onto the wrist of his that was sprawled over the pillow. He blinked and looked down at her, tugging at her hair.

"Don't worry! The great me will keep your nightmares away!" he grinned, groaning as Soul's fist smacked straight into his nose.

"Shut up, I'm trying to sleep." the scythe muttered, peaking a red eye open to glance not at Black*Star, but at Maka. The look screamed betrayal, and Maka felt a familiar pull of guilt in her gut, but she didn't know what to say. She would never know what to say as long as she was waiting to wake up.

The trip to the airport was awkward, and the plane ride home was even worse. Without the sound of Black*Star's cackling at the movie that was playing, it was completely silent. The blue-haired ninja tried desperately to make things go back to normal, but Maka wasn't acting like herself, and Soul was angsting because of it, and he didn't know how to fix it. He could only be so obnoxious before it started to get tiring, and the flight from France to Nevada was a long one. As he knew he would, he ended up falling asleep, and didn't wake up until they'd finally gotten to the airport. Maka and Soul were still quiet, not knowing how to break the ice. Once outside the airport they were greeted by Liz, Patti, and Tsubaki, who all simultaneously screamed and ran over to hug Maka. She looked startled at first, but then a smile broke out over her face.

"Oi! I think you're all forgetting who brought her back!" Black*Star pouted, and Soul smacked him over the head, glaring at him. Tsubaki, always one to indulge Black*Star, pulled away from Maka for a moment to kiss her meister on the cheek before turning her attention back to the blonde.

"We planned a welcome home party for you, Maka!" Patti sing-songed, perky and happy as always. Unlike Tsubaki and Liz (even Soul and Black*Star), she looked like she'd gotten plenty of sleep, and looked less concerned than the rest of the group seemed to be. Maka admired Patti's carefree attitude, although she figured it was probably a result of her short attention span.

"Oh... thank you. When is it?" Maka asked, smiling at the short-haired blonde as Tsubaki and Liz fussed over her hair and clothes.

"Later today! So you have to come, okay? Kiddo's taking a break from working to see you!" Patti poked at Maka's thinned out cheeks, pouting heavily when Soul grabbed his meister's arm and pulled her away from the group.

"We'd better get her ready, then. We'll see you guys later." the group gave the scythe a concerned look, but waved and bid their goodbyes, knowing they'd see Maka later that day. He led the way over to his bike, hopping on without his helmet as always and Maka jumping on without a helmet as well (they never bothered before, they weren't about to start now), before Soul stepped on the gas and zoomed to their apartment.

Well... Soul knew it was their apartment, but to Maka it was foreign territory, pulling up to the extravagant and beautiful complex with wine-red walls and vines crawling up the side of the building. Maka didn't say anything, but followed Soul with increasing confusion as he led the way to their apartment on the second to top floor. He fiddled with the keys, mumbling to himself, before opening the door and letting Maka inside.

The apartment had obviously been furbished with Soul in mind; the deep tones of red contrasted with the black piano in the corner, the black bookcase, and black coffee table in the living room. Maka had to take a moment to wonder if it'd come furbished the way it was or if Soul had done it himself, and she honestly couldn't tell because the Black Blood room in Soul's mind had vague similarity.

"... Why'd you move?" Maka asked, breaking the silence that had consumed the two of them for almost a full twenty-four hours. Soul paused on his way down the hallway, his bag still slung over his shoulder. He hesitated.

"Kid wanted me closer to the school. That's about it." Soul stated dryly, disappearing into what Maka assumed was his room. She sighed, looking around the apartment with interest. She slowly made her way to the piano in the corner, running her fingers over the soft keys and chewing at her lip. It felt like it'd been ages since she'd heard Soul play the piano, though... she guessed it had been. She's two years older than she'd been since the last time she'd heard Soul play anything. She pressed one of the keys, listening to the sound ring through the apartment. A small smile breached her face as she pressed another key, jumping and backing up into Soul when he reached around her to create a melody around the note she'd pressed.

They both let out a quiet 'oof' as they collided, Maka freezing against his chest and Soul pausing. The room grew quiet, and after a moment Soul started playing again, around Maka so she was stuck between Soul and the piano just watching him play what she recognized as Chopin's Nocturne #20. It was her favorite piece from one of Soul's records, and she'd listened to it so often those two years ago that it was almost what her soul wavelength resonated. The c-sharp minor key was always flowing through Maka's soul, and hearing Soul's fingers play the melody seemed to nudge her wavelength back into life. It was faintly thrumming along, making Maka's heart race at the sensation that had long since become foreign to her. She pushed back against Soul's chest, moving them both away from the piano and Soul's fingers out of reach of the keys.

"I-... I have to get ready." she muttered quietly before walking down the hall and stepping into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and locking it. This was all becoming too real for her, and she feared the moment this dream ended. It was all too good to be true.


End file.
